Well, my dark night has lasted for a whole month now. And I know I need to change it, but part of me just doesn’t want to make any effort towards anything except necessities… eating, toilet visits…. eating more, and going back to bed, with an occasional run to Circle K for another pack of smokes. It’s pathetic… I know, but still I don’t have the will power or whatever character trait I need right now to change it. I’ve tried shaming myself… look at all you have… you are healthy, have a car, a roof over your head, food, clothes to wear, a great family, etc., etc., but that frozen part of me doesn’t care. It feels it deserves shame.

Wrapped up in my pity party, I make a very small package. I know all the right things to say to myself. The things I would say to others feeling like I feel right now. Somehow, none of my earthly wisdom is helping at all. I’ve lost faith in my God and myself. I have had so many sorrows over the last three years that I feel beaten and broken… maybe too broken this time to be fixed. I trusted my intuition and fell flat on my face, and god it hurt … and I did it over and over and over, and every time, it just hurt more. I prayed, pleaded, knocked… like the good book says works, but no doors opened and no one answered my prayers, A man I was in love with was killed in a car accident. A couple of years later, another I had waited to meet for 35 years, turned out to have a contagious disease. I had two surgeries that left me staggering in infection and killer pain for many months, and ultimately cost me my job. Three of my family members died and two of my friends… one brutally killed himself… all within a few months. The jobs I really wanted didn’t come through, so finances really suck right now, and my flipping IBM computer has over 500 viruses on it and I can’t afford to fix it. Last but not least, a recent x-ray showed a mass on one of my lungs from Valley Fever and my doctor wants a CT scan.

So I ask you… how would you feel? Lucky? Full of gratitude? Joyful? Or like you’d been run over by a truck?

They say that it isn’t what life brings to you, but what you do with it that counts. Well, I don’t know what to do with the last three years. If I was a dog and the years were a pile of bones, I’d bury them for sure and never look back. My life actually didn’t start out all that well either. I was molested when I was two years old and it lasted for years. The good news is that I’m in the top one percent of those sexually molested before the age of five, who have a “normal” life. Whatever that means. Maybe that I’m not a drug addict, alcoholic, or suicidal. But that doesn’t mean that I didn’t dabble in the addictions or that suicide never crossed my mind as a teen and young adult. It did. I’m addicted to tobacco… one of society’s lepers now… so sue me.

And my normal life is pretty normal, except for the lengthy depressions that can last a month….. but they don’t happen often anymore, and there’s my heightened startle response, which is still firmly entrenched in my body. Sometimes I get in bed and start to doze off, then suddenly the refrigerator starts running. The noise startles me so badly that my adrenalin goes crazy… my heart races and pumps so hard, I think it is going to burst. Visions of an intruder race through my mind. I take deep breaths and tell myself it is just the refer… I live in a safe place… calm down… go to sleep. And I roll over and try to doze. But then the house settles and makes a loud crack, or someone slams a car door outside, and I’m back on Mr. Toad’s wild ride. My mind races. I know there is no intruder, but I also know there is no way I am going to calm down enough to feel safe enough to sleep.

So I do the only rational thing I can think of to do. I get up for the fifth or sixth time, check the house, peer out the windows, then I find my purse, cell phone, and car keys, bring them into the bedroom and put them beside my bed. I take my loaded gun out of my drawer and put it on the nightstand. Then I lock the bedroom door and get back into bed. I figure if an intruder comes through my locked bedroom door, he will be facing his worst nightmare… a terrified woman with a cell phone, bad memories, and who is a crack shot with a loaded 45. Okay, so my normal maybe isn’t exactly as normal as most people’s. But in my defense, I have to say I only act this weirdness out every six months or so…. not so bad considering all that happened to me as a child. Well, hell, I was raped three times too… as a young adult. And the abuse from the sick old great uncle, who continued to frequent our family gatherings, was a terror lasted for years.

So back to my NOW and my inertia… I’m a pro at being knocked down and getting back up. I’ve done it so many, many times throughout my life, but this time I’m having a really hard time getting back up. I know what it takes. I know how to do it, but this time I’m not sure I want to get back up. How pathetic is that? I know, it is really the epitome of self-pity and I should be ashamed, but then that is the problem… I feel ashamed of myself. Too ashamed of myself to want to get back up. Why? I’ve made some terrible decisions in my life and they caused me some serious and painful losses that could not be recovered. Some of my bad decisions were over the last three years… and in the last six months. I no longer trust myself.

So, I don’t know the answer to my dark night of the soul right now. One bright thing that did happen today was that a girlfriend of 15 years called me. Right away she knew I was down, so she gave me her New Yorker’s pep talk. It went something like, “Fly your freak flag! You were an abused child, a survivor. Fly your flag with pride!” She made me laugh… the first time in a month.

She also told me her impression of me the first time we met; that she thought I was kind, generous, talented, and very beautiful, physically and on the inside, and said how amazed she was watching men look at me, knowing that I was oblivious of the attention. She told me how each time I talked to her through the years and listened to her goals and dreams and offered suggestions and told her she could do it and to go for it… that I had helped her and given her the confidence to dream bigger. She touched me with her loving words, stroked my legging ego, and she made me cry.

So, that’s what this blog is about tonight. This is my freak flag and I’m flying it for you to see. Yeah… I’m the survivor of early childhood abuse. It was sheer hell, and sometimes I am amazed that I lived through it, because there were many times I didn’t think I would. I still have my quirks after 50 years of living, and sometimes depression hits me really hard and long. And yes, sometimes I still fall into the deep dark hole of self-pity, like now. But tonight I remember one of the things that really helps me to pull myself back out. And that is the love and kindness of another human being willing to listen without judging me; willing to encourage me, and to point out some things that are good, healthy, and admirable about me. Like my dear friend, Tricia, did for me tonight. Maybe some prayers are answered.

I think I can crawl out of this pity pit now, even if it’s going to take a little time. I’m feeling at least willing to try now… one more time, because someone took the time to say they loved me while I am not feeling lovable.

So, if you know someone who is hurting, maybe give them a call. Take it from me, it will mean much more to them than you will probably ever know. We are all unique, creative winners. sometimes we just forget this fact.

Today is day seven that I have been suffering from a severe allergic response to food additives, namely MSG and citric acid. I’ve known since childhood that I have a problem if I get too much citric acid, but I was always puzzled by this, because I can eat citrus fruits and I have no adverse reaction. This present reaction was so bad that I researched citric acid and found it is related to MSG and that many people who are sensitive to MSG have problems with citric acid and aspartame. I also learned that most citric acid that is used as a food preservative is not derived from citrus fruits, but from a corn mold/fungus that is actually a known carcinogen.

Further research into MSG left me feeling really angry at the FDA, the government body that is supposed to be protecting us all. MSG is a neurotoxin that excites the cells in your brain. It poses serious danger, particularly to children, and can even cause brain cells to die. It is thought to also contribute to obesity, migraines, chest pain, muscle problems, Lupus, Parkinson’s, fibromyalgia, and numerous other serious health problems. Since it was first introduced sometime in the 60’s, the amount that is now put into our foods has tripled. It is estimated that one-fourth of the population is MSG sensitive. Makes me wonder if all of the problems we are seeing more and more of, such as early impotence, diabetes, heart problems, nervous disorders, and bladder problems aren’t somehow related to all of the crap our government is feeding us, literally.

One of the websites I found that I thought was particularly informative is:

http://www.truthinlabeling.org/nomsg.html

The home page of this website also has a link to several eye-opening U-Tube videos on MSG and Aspartame.

My own reaction included extreme chest and back pains, a full body rash, large hives, fatigue, nervousness, sleeplessness, extreme swelling, and my blood pressure shot up to 160/100. The itching is bone deep and I became so overcome by the itching in my hands one night, that in frenzy, I actually rubbed the skin off two of my fingers in my attempt to get relief. Pain at least provided some relief. I tried ice packs, ice water baths, Epson salt baths, heat, lotions, and nothing helped except scratching my skin raw with a hairbrush, which has ripped up my skin pretty badly.

I finally went to see a doctor. I was prescribed steroids to take, along with the over-the-counter benadryl I had been taking (and am still taking every four hours around the clock). Even with the steroids and benadryl, the itching is intense and becomes unbearably if the benadryl wears off. I just cannot believe that the FDA allows these toxins to be put into our foods… and you can find them in most of the daily items you innocently purchase from your local grocery and use on a daily basis because food and beauty product manufacturers can list these toxins under many other names.

Because my scalp was so itchy and swollen into a skullcap, I thought maybe my shampoos or conditioners contained citric acid. So, I began checking them all. Sure enough, out of 20 products, all contained citric acid. These products included Jergen’s body lotion, a scented body wash, Paul Mitchell shampoo and conditioner, and various other shampoos and conditioners.

I went into my kitchen and decided to read the labels on the foods I typically use. I found all my Campbell’s soups had either an MSG related ingredient or citric acid, also my dry Lipton’s onion soup mix, even my egg substitute. I read bread labels, juice labels, and everything I could find. I had just bought some of the much advertised “Activia yogurt,” and to my horror, it was sweetened with aspartame. That junk never leaves your body. It is so toxic. Do some research and you will see. Bad stuff! Anyway, I realized there was nothing in my kitchen I could eat without making my allergic reaction even worse. So, I dosed myself up on steroids and benadryl, then put on a long-sleeved shirt, sunglasses, a hat and gloves—so I wouldn’t scared the hell out of the other shoppers—and went to an organic market. I bought $100 worth of organic foods so I would have something I could eat that didn’t contain some type of synthetic, chemically manufactured toxin in it.

It appears that between the additive garbage in my beauty products and those put into the foods I had purchased, I was really getting slammed with toxins, topically and by ingesting them. Is that pathetic or what? No wonder my immune system finally blew.

The following paragraphs are excerpts from some of the web research I did. I am providing this information so that maybe someone else experiencing migraines or other chronic symptoms might consider the possibility that they too might be unknowingly reacting to the toxic additives the FDA is allowing greedy manufacturers to put into our foods and other products.

The UK Food Standards Agency publishes a listing of E numbers split into major additive categories (colours, preservatives, etc.). Copies are available on the Internet in pdf format at: http://www.food.gov.uk/multimedia/pdfs/elist_numbers.pdf

The numbering system is being adapted for international use by the Codex Alimentarius Commission who is developing an International Numbering System (INS). This largely uses the same numbers (but without the E).

Food additives are the only foodstuffs that are given E-numbers. But not all food additives are included. Evidently, very few of the food additives/ingredients that contain processed free glutamic acid (MSG) are considered additives for the purposes of assigning E-numbers. Note, also, that food additives are classified according to the use or function for which they have been declared. There are many ingredients and food additives that contain processed free glutamic acid (MSG) and cause adverse reactions in MSG-sensitive people, additives/ ingredients like gelatin, autolyzed yeast extract, and hydrolyzed soy protein, for example, that are not identified as additives and, therefore, are not on the E-number list. Others, which may be identified as additives, are not identified as (classified as) flavorings. The following are six additives with names that clearly indicate that they contain processed free glutamic acid (MSG):

• E620 Glutamic acid
• E621 Monosodium glutamate
• E622 Monopotassium glutamate
• E623 Calcium diglutamate
• E624 Monoammonium glutamate
• E625 Magnesium diglutamate

Aspartame contains neurotoxic aspartic acid. Aspartic acid and L-cysteine are neurotoxic amino acids as potent or more potent than the neurotoxic glutamic acid found in MSG. People who react to processed free glutamic acid (MSG) typically react similarly to aspartame, and vice versa, provided that they ingest amounts that exceed their individual tolerances for the substances.

• E951 Aspartame
• E920 L-Cysteine [Added in October 1998 by Directive 98/72/EC]

Carrageenan causes MSG-reactions in great numbers of MSG-sensitive people. There are various forms of carrageenan. It is still unknown whether carrageenan contains MSG or creates MSG during processing.

• E407 Carrageenan

Disodium guanylate and disodium inosinate do not contain MSG, but work synergistically with free glutamic acid. When disodium guanylate and disodium inosinate are found on a food label, consumers can be fairly certain that the labeled product contains some hidden processed free glutamic acid (MSG). Disodium guanylate and disodium inosinate are relatively expensive food additives that would not be cost effective if they were not used in the presence of MSG.

• E627 Disodium guanylate
• E631 Disodium inosinate

People with little tolerance for processed free glutamic acid (MSG) report reactions to pectin and to citric acid. Most of the citric acid used in formulating food ingredients comes from corn rather than from citrus fruit.

• E440 Pectins (i) pectin (ii) amidated pectin
• E330 Citric acid
• E331 Sodium citrates (i) Monosodium citrate (ii) Disodium citrate (iii) Trisodium citrate
• E332 Potassium citrates (i) Monopotassium citrate (ii) Tripotassium citrate
• E333 Calcium citrates (i) Monocalcium citrate (ii) Dicalcium citrate (iii) Tricalcium citrate
• E380 Triammonium citrate
• E472c Citric acid esters of mono- and diglycerides of fatty acids
• E1505 Triethyl citrate

The E list includes a number of starches. These ingredients may include small amounts of processed free glutamic acid (MSG) that may cause reactions in MSG-sensitive individuals who have very little tolerance. Such highly MSG-sensitive people should also avoid E1200 Polydextrose.

The E list also includes a number of ingredients that include the word “phosphate.” Although phosphates do not seem to contain processed free glutamic acid (MSG), some MSG-sensitive people with little tolerance for MSG react similarly to phosphates. Although the reason(s) for such reactions are not known, we do know that phosphates affect calcium and magnesium levels in the body. Calcium and magnesium are involved in the metabolism of glutamic acid.

These ALWAYS contain MSG

• Glutamate (E 620)
• Glutamic acid (E 620)
• Monosodium glutamate (E 621)
• Monopotassium glutamate(E 622)
• Calcium glutamate (E 623)
• Monoammonium glutamate (E 624)
• Magnesium glutamate(E 625)
• Gelatin
• Calcium caseinate
• Sodium caseinate
• Textured protein
• Anything “hydrolyzed”
• Any “hydrolyzed protein”
• Yeast nutrient
• Yeast extract
• Yeast food
• Autolyzed yeast
• Vegetable protein extract
• Vetsin
• Ajinomoto
• Natrium glutamate (natrium Latin/German for sodium)

These OFTEN contain MSG or create MSG during processing

• Carrageenan
• Maltodextrin
• Malt extract
• Natural pork flavoring
• Citric acid
• Malt flavoring
• Bouillon and Broth
• Natural chicken flavoring
• Soy protein isolate
• Natural beef flavoring
• Ultra-pasteurized
• Soy sauce
• Stock
• Barley malt
• Soy sauce extract
• Whey protein concentrate
• Pectin
• Soy protein
• Whey protein
• Protease
• Soy protein concentrate
• Whey protein isolate
• Protease enzymes
• Anything protein fortified
• Flavors(s) & Flavoring(s)
• Anything enzyme modified
• Anything fermented
• Natural flavor(s) & flavoring(s)
• Enzymes anything
• Seasonings (the word “seasonings”)

These ingredients work synergistically with MSG to enhance flavor

(If they are present for flavoring purposes, so is MSG)

• Disodium 5’-guanylate(E 627)
• Disodium 5’-inosinate (E 631)
• Disodium 5′-ribonucleotides (E 635)

The following substances contain some factory created free glutamate in varying amounts. Please note that some food labels list several of these items, which can add up to a considerable and dangerous amount in one product:

• Malted Barley (flavor)
• Natural Flavors, Flavors, Flavoring
• Modified food starch
• Barley malt
• Reaction Flavors
• Rice syrup or brown rice syrup
• Malt Extract or Flavoring
• Natural Chicken, Beef, or Pork, Flavoring
• Maltodextrin, dextrose, dextrates
• Soy Sauce or Extract
• Lipolyzed butter fat
• “Low” or “No Fat” items
• Caramel Flavoring (coloring)
• Soy Protein
• Stock
• Soy Protein Isolate or Concentrate
• Citric Acid (when processed from corn)
• Broth
• Cornstarch fructose (made from corn)
• Milk Powder
• Bouillon
• Flowing Agents
• Dry Milk Solids
• Carrageenan
• Wheat, rice, corn, or oat protein
• Protein Fortified Milk
• Whey Protein or Whey
• Anything enriched or vitamin enriched
• Annatto
• Whey Protein Isolate or Concentrate
• Protein fortified “anything”
• Spice
• Pectin
• Enzyme modified proteins
• Gums (guar and vegetable)
• Protease
• Ultra-pasteurized dairy products
• Dough Conditioners
• Protease enzymes
• Fermented proteins
• Yeast Nutrients
• Lecithin
• Gluten and gluten flour
• Corn syrup and corn syrup solids, high fructose corn syrup
• “Seasonings” (Most assume this is salt, pepper, or spices and herbs, which sometimes it is.)
• Protein powders: whey, soy, oat, rice (in protein bars shakes and body building drinks)
• Amino acids (as in Bragg’s liquid amino acids and chelated to vitamins)
• Algae, phytoplankton, sea vegetable, wheat/ barley grass powders

In ADDITION…

The not so new game is to label hydrolyzed proteins as pea protein, whey protein, corn protein, etc. If a pea, for example, were whole, it would be identified as a pea. Calling an ingredient pea protein indicates that the pea has been hydrolyzed, at least in part, and that processed free glutamic acid (MSG) is present. Relatively new to the list are wheat protein and soy protein.

Disodium guanylate and disodium inosinate are expensive food additives that work synergistically with inexpensive MSG. Their use suggests that the product has MSG in it. They would probably not be used as food additives if there were no MSG present.

MSG reactions have been reported from soaps, shampoos, hair conditioners, and cosmetics, where MSG is hidden in ingredients that include the words “hydrolyzed,” “amino acids,” and “protein.”

Low fat and no fat milk products often include milk solids that contain MSG and/or contain Carrageenan, guar gum, and/or locust bean gum.  Low fat and no fat versions of ice cream and cheese may not be as obvious as yogurt, milk, cream, cream cheese, cottage cheese, etc., but they are not an exception.

Protein powders contain glutamic acid, which, invariably, would be processed free glutamic acid (MSG). Amino acids are not always listed on labels of protein powders.

Drinks, candy, and chewing gum are potential sources of hidden MSG and/or aspartame and neotame. Aspartic acid, found in neotame and aspartame (NutraSweet), ordinarily causes MSG type reactions in MSG sensitive people. Aspartame is found in some medications, including children’s medications. Neotame is relatively new and we have not yet seen it used widely in the United States. Check with your pharmacist.

Binders and fillers for medications, nutrients, and supplements, both prescription and non-prescription, enteric feeding materials, and some fluids administered intravenously in hospitals, may contain MSG.

Healthy Vegetarian meals also add MSG

They hide the ingredient in another ingredient called “yeast extract“, then they put yeast extract in the product and list “yeast extract” right on the label. So this is the scam: all sorts of natural health products and vegetarian products are using chemical taste enhancers in the form of yeast extract but failing to disclose to consumers that they actually contain MSG. And if you look around at the natural health products in health food stores and grocery stores, you’ll find that yeast extract is a rather prominent ingredient. It’s used in soups, in vegetarian mixes, in some tofu mixes, and even so-called natural frozen foods.

Here is a link to companies claiming their food is MSG free but are not:

http://www.truthinlabeling.org/nomsg.html

This site explains what MSG does in the body:

http://books.google.com/books?id=UxDNkhvIc…qDkVbrdH-X-fsTc .

Here are some other websites that were provided by truthinlabeling.org site:

http://www.msgmyth.com/hidename.htm

http://www.msgtruth.org/sulfite.htm

http://www.msgtruth.org/whatisit.htm , http://www.msgmyth.com/discus/messages/247/247.html

http://www.msgtruth.org/why.htm

Good luck, friends. My hope is that my little, rather lengthy blog here will keep someone else from going through what I have been experiencing. All I can say is read labels and don’t trust the FDA. I don’t think they are on the side of the consumers. If they were working in our best interests, then I wouldn’t be sitting here doped up and holding a hairbrush at 4:00 a.m., writing this blog.

I got dumped. It hurt. It hurt so much that it took me 21 months to get over it. Talk about beating a dead horse. It actually was a pretty tragic happening.

I met a man much younger than me, expecting to just enjoy dating him for a while — I guess until we both tired of one another. I wasn’t thinking long-term when I accepted the date. I hadn’t dated in many years, so I was out for some male company and just fun… then he kissed me goodnight. I’ve known some fabulous kissers, but I had never experienced what I experienced that night. I believe in love souls… those we have known and loved in past lives, and, to me, this was a love soul like no other. The passion was instant and seemed mutual… and all-consuming, at least for me. We saw one another three times only. I had a mood hit me and I broke our fourth date. I didn’t hear from him for a month and figured he thought I was too  high maintenance, moody, or whatever.

I shed a few tears over my acting like an ass and losing the chance to spend time with a truly beautiful person, and then resigned myself to the dating circuit once again. I moved on; dated three other men that I enjoyed. Then a weird thing happened. I got an email from a dating site that I was on. It was from an interested man. He was short, and after being married to a short man, I only dated them tall, so I politely declined.

Then, to my surprise, I received a return email telling me that we had a mutual friend. Turned out the mutual friend was the beautiful younger man I had been so completely infatuated with. The date site fellow asked if he could have my phone number, because my younger man had been in a terrible auto accident, had been unconscious for a month, and his cell phone, containing my number, had been crushed in the accident. I was floored and horrified. I emailed my phone number and my beautiful younger man called me.

He said his friend had come to visit him in the hospital and they had been cruising the dating site on his laptop. His friend showed him my profile and said he had emailed me to ask me out. When my sweetie saw me, he told his friend, “That’s my baby.”

The accident that took my beautiful younger man away happened on a freeway. Seems the truck he was riding in blew a tire. The driver pulled over and my friend unbuckled his seat belt to get out. Then another car on the freeway, failed to see them on the side of the road, and hit them… sent them rolling over and over. My sweet man was thrown out, sustained a brain trauma, broken arm, they had to remove his spleen, and he injured his spine at the T4-T5 area, so he lost the use of his legs.

To digress, the greater tragedy was that he had been in the war and was injured in the same area of his spine. He was in a wheelchair for seven years. During that time, his wife of many years… childhood sweetheart… was diagnosed with cancer and died, leaving him with three young children to raise alone. When I met him, he was in great physical shape. He was full of life, had a great sense of humor, and was a compassionate, loving man enjoying his life and career. Two of his children were out on their own, so he had only one teenage son left at home. He had faced sorrow and loss, being crippled for years, and finally his life was really good. He told me he wanted to take ballroom dance lessons and I told him I’d go with him.

He was to be transferred to the Tucson VA Hospital, but when he called me, he said there hadn’t been room in Tucson, so he ended up in Texas. I couldn’t believe it. We spoke, emailed and text-ed for a month. He began rehabilitation for his injuries and found that while he could feel his legs, he could not walk. Each time we chatted about his visitors and his day, he said things that didn’t make sense to me. I didn’t question them. I hadn’t seen him. I didn’t really understand the reality of  his injury.

During this time, I had a surgery. After my surgery healed, I told him I wanted to come and see him. He told me he felt helpless, depressed, and that he didn’t want me to see him the way he was, and that he thought he might be going home soon. So I waited. Then his calls became less frequent. He no longer answered my emails promptly. I could feel him pulling away. I didn’t understand what was happening or why I felt like something wasn’t right or congruent, but it caused me to act insecurely… the kiss of death for any relationship, and we really hadn’t had time to form a relationship yet. But I knew he cared, and I really cared deeply for him because of the past life connection, perhaps, but also because I knew him to be a warrior of a man. One who had overcome many challenges and who still loved life and people, and could still play and laugh, despite his past. I felt such grief over the fact that he was crippled for a second time. This was a man who deserved better from life, and I couldn’t get over the unfairness of it all.

Each time we talked, I could hear how traumatized he was. The rehab was frustrating and heartbreaking for him. His truck had been repossessed, along with all of his work tools. He’d lost everything. He said he kept hoping that it was all a bad dream and that he would wake up. My heart just broke for him. I wanted to be there to be of any comfort that I could, to encourage and emotionally support him, to offer my affection and care. I didn’t get the chance.

He dumped me…. in silence, without a goodbye or explanation. He blocked my IM and email. I emailed him and he never responded. They were pretty crazy emails and I figure after reading them, he was probably glad he dumped me, but as I said, I didn’t get to see him, so I really couldn’t grasp the depth of his trauma. I tried to convince him to change his mind for months. pretty pathetic for a grown woman. I was in shock.

What I thought was so mutual, perhaps wasn’t, but then he had a life to mend as best he could, now from the confines of a wheelchair. So, perhaps trying to build a new relationship was just too much. If the tables had been turned, I doubt I would have wanted to continue seeing him. I would have needed time to address my survival… create an income, accept what happened, and the fact that I may or may not ever walk again… especially since this was the second spine injury to the same area.

So I cried for more than a year. I tried to date, but I didn’t have the heart for it. It was given out, even if he didn’t want it. Every time I saw dancers on a dance floor, I remembered how my special man had wanted to learn to dance… and I cried. I couldn’t help how I felt… like I’d lost something so right and so rare that I would probably never find it again. Even if I did, it wouldn’t be with him. I wouldn’t accept that fact for 21 months… how could he just leave in silence? Block me so coldly and completely? Not care that his actions crushed me? My mind kept reeling with questions that I had no answers to… like why the hell I felt so much for this man that I hardly knew. I felt like I had known him all my life, but the fact was, I hadn’t. We had only seen one another three times.

Then a second weird thing happened. I was standing at the sink, combing my hair, and I heard a voice clearly say, “He never was in Texas.” I didn’t know what to think. I called the Tucson VA Hospital and asked if he was registered as a patient there and I was told that he had been released to go home a week earlier. So… he hadn’t been transferred to a Texas hospital after all; he just didn’t want me to visit him in the hospital and see him the way he was.

Then came the “a-hah” moment. I finally realized that I just got a “payback” from life.

I have had many men love me… really love me, but when I felt that I needed to leave them and get on with my life, I did. And I did it without an explanation… or communication of any kind. I just left, didn’t look back, and moved on. I did to them what has now been done to me.

I never realized how terribly painful it is to the person left behind. Now I do, and I wish I could go back and tell those that cared about me that I am so very sorry for being so self-centered and indifferent to their feelings. I was so caught up in my own needs and pains that I gave no thought to what any of them felt. Maybe I just didn’t think I really meant that much to anyone, because I didn’t think I was worth loving… so I didn’t believe anyone would be hurt over my leaving. Now I realize that I hurt a lot of wonderful men.

So life, or karma, has boomeranged back to kick me in the head. I got the lesson this time: “Don’t be a self-centered ass. It’s fine to leave if I must, but do it in a loving way and communicate. At least let the other person know how I feel.”

I wish my beautiful younger man would have left me with a sweet goodbye instead of silence, but I really had it coming. So after wasting over a year mourning the loss of a love I never really had, I’m able to let it go. I will always wish things had been different, and I doubt I will ever forget the “feel” of that special man, but I have to tend to my own survival now. Focusing on loss, even if it turns out to be a fantasy, can really trash your life.

So, I’m ready to begin again… and with a greater understanding about how fragile human emotions can be and how important it is to treat others in loving and kind ways. We need to be able to understand our experiences, because when we don’t, we don’t learn the lessons and life becomes a dark hole filled with questions without answers. And others deserve to understand.

The hype in society sells us all a bill of goods that is false. We live in a consumer-driven society; a society driven by money, power and greed. We are bombarded constantly by the media… to eat more, buy more, to fatten the wallets of others. We are brainwashed into believing that name brand shoes, clothing and cosmetics are somehow symbols of prestige and success, and if we buy them, then we are a success. It’s media hype. Off-brand items that cost less are just as useful as the name brand items. The difference is that the buyer didn’t buy the B.S. It’s the person with healthy self-esteem who will pass up the name brands and buy a product because it fits his or her needs. So I think the media caters to those who feel inadequate or not attractive or as cool as others. Truth is, the coolest people are those who don’t care about appearing cool.

The majority of us are taught to feel “not good enough” from an early age. We are told we have to compete and win, in school, in business, in life. We are told to work hard, to climb the corporate ladder, to earn more, win awards, get the best grades, accumulate more and more things, and to not make waves. We are encouraged to look the same, dress to fit in, to be agreeable, to keep our opinions to ourselves or risk being rejected or ridiculed.

Few of us are taught that a happy, successful life is achieved when you find joy and satisfaction in everyday living. Or that creative self-expression and being your own unique self – celebrating and expressing your individuality, is the way to achieve happiness and success.

Whether you wear name brand clothing or drive an expensive car, own a big home, or sleep in a box on the sidewalk, matters not. If you love living a wanderer’s life free of debt, and you are happy, then you are a success regardless of whether or not your nomadic choice is someone else’s idea of success.

Life is simply personal perception. Happiness and success are personal perceptions. You are as happy and valuable as you perceive yourself to be. The approval of others feels nice to the ego, but no one needs another’s approval to have worth. The judgment of others is simply that; their judgment based on their own values, ideals, beliefs, and personal perceptions of what life should be about and what a person should have to be a success.

When you take away the “shoulds,” and realize that your opinion is equal to the opinions of all others, then life can be lived according to your own interests, choices, ideals, desires, wants, needs, and values – or your own ideas of what success looks like. You will never feel “good enough” if you base your self-worth on society’s values. There is really no prize to win. There is no place to go. Death is the only destination, so why hurry through life trying to accumulate things you can’t take with you when you go? You have no choice about dying… you are going to die someday, but you do have a choice as to how you are going to live.

Whether you walk easily and slowly through life, enjoying each moment, or rush through life and stress yourself out everyday trying to achieve some ideal, is your choice. It all boils down to choice.

Whether you choose to live your whole life in a small town or in a large city, sell your paintings to your neighbors or have a New York gallery show. What matters is whether the life you’ve chosen to live makes you happy. If you are a mechanic and each day feels great, you have fulfilled your purpose and you are a success. If you are a financial wizard and wealth brings you joy, then you are a success. It doesn’t matter what path you’ve chosen. All that matters is whether or not you have been able to create joy along your chosen path.

Every person is an equal expression of the divine. Our task is simply to be who we are and to love life. That is success. Life just is. You just are. What you are is your choice, and no matter what you choose to be or do, your are a success if you find joy. If you see a smiling and happy face staring back at you in your mirror each time you take a look, enjoy it, because THAT is what success looks like.

He wasn’t a looker; somewhat stocky, hair rumpled, rough hands. It was a difficult time in my life. My daughter was two and a half and I had just gone through an annulment after finding out my husband was gay and had married me because he thought I could make him straight. We were married for two weeks before he told me — I knew something was wrong for months before the wedding, but being a people-pleaser and loving his family (and mine adoring him), I didn’t back out when I should have.

Anyway we wed, then divorced, and he left me with the credit card bills that paid for our ill-fated wedding. I worked in an office during the day, and on weekends, I worked as a cocktail waitress. Even working two jobs, I still had to ask for Welfare aid and I took my turn hanging my head in shame as I stood in the food commodity lines to get my ration of powered eggs, powered milk, and whatever canned goods were available. To say I was depressed, is minimizing my despair at the time. I was 25 and a single mom working two jobs and still struggling. When Jerry came to put in my telephone, his knock awakened me from a depression nap. Having to stay awake so that he could install the phone, I put on a pot of tea, and being the people-pleaser-always-be-courteous type, I offered him a cup of tea — assuming he would politely decline, finish his work, and leave.

Instead, he accepted my tea invitation, finished his installation, and proceeded to unbuckle his belt. I thought he had misunderstood my intentions and was removing his pants. He saw the look on my face and laughed softly, then said, “It’s just my tool belt.” And he sat down at my table. He spotted my guitar sitting in the living room corner and asked if I played. I explained I was self-taught and had learned to play children’s songs so that I could do sing-alongs in my daughter’s preschool class. I asked if he played and he said, “A little.”

He picked up the guitar and he played for an hour. It was astounding. He could play anything and I was transported out of that tiny apartment and my sorrow and depression until he was done. He never asked me one question about my self. Never pried. He just played songs that soothed my spirit and lifted me up. I bid him goodbye and figured I’d not see him again. It had been a lovely hour, and one I needed.

A few weeks passed and Valentine’s Day came. I opened my front door and there on my doorstep was a box of Valentine’s candy with a card addressed to my two-year old daughter from Jerry. A few more weeks passed and there was another knock on my door. There stood Jerry. He simply asked if he could come in for tea. I made tea and he played music. And still he never pressured me for conversation. I honestly had none to offer. I was too broken in spirit. After a while, he made a habit of dropping by for tea and each time, he played guitar and sang for me. He gave me his friendship, a quiet, gentle kind, conveyed through company and music. He played Dr. Hook and his Medicine Band tunes, James Taylor, Jim Croce, John Denver… just so many beautiful songs that touched me, and yet he never tried to touch me. Most men did… I was slim, in shape, pretty, and single.

The years passed and he and I became real friends. I fell in love with this quiet, gentle man with rough hands and unkempt hair, but I valued our friendship, so I never said a word about my feelings. When he got the girl he was dating pregnant, he came to me and asked what to do. He said he loved two women and one was pregnant. I told him if he loved her to do the honorable thing — I didn’t realize the other woman he loved was me. He married her in my mother’s backyard… and I smiled and hid my truly broken heart. We stayed close friends and my family drew him in. He taught my brother to play guitar. The two men found a harmony and began to play at local clubs, so it was easy to see my friend often without offending his wife or embarrasing myself.

Five years passed and another child was born — his first son. I was a full-time cocktail waitress by then… working nights to be home with my baby during the day. One night I stayed late with the girls and had a few drinks. Not being a drinker, I was pretty drunk, so I decided it was time to go home. I didn’t know that Jerry’s first son had been born, or that he had called my mother’s house to find out where I was so he could share his good news. He’d had a few drinks in celebration.

Oblivious, I headed out the door  of the nightclub  – it was a long, dark, underground hallway. A crowd of people were just coming in as I was trying to get out. Suddenly I found myself colliding with a man. We  fell against the wall in the dark. It was Jerry. We had never allowed ourselves to be that physically close. He kissed me and all the reserve we both had been holding dissolved. I took him home with me that night. No man has ever made love to me as tenderly.  It was the beginning of a love affair that lasted for many years.

We kept it secret, not wanting to hurt his family. I didn’t feel a need to possess him, only to love him whenever we could get away. We had a private world made up of two. He wrote a song for me… a beautiful song called My Friend. It told our story… I still listen to it now and then when my soul feels a bittersweet longing for something lost. We continued our affair for several years and then I took an out-of-town job, moved, and eventually got married.

The week after my wedding, Jerry ran into my dad in a restaurant and my dad told him all about the ceremony. Three days later, Jerry had a heart attack. He was in his early 30′s by then.

During his rehab, his wife divorced him and the local Baptist Church took him under their wings. He re-connected with his Baptist roots and decided to become a minister. By this time, my marriage was over and I had moved back into town. Jerry came to visit, and for the first time in many years, we were both single. He loved me. I loved him still, but this story doesn’t have a happy ending.

Since birth, my beliefs have always been metaphysical. I came in with them and despite all the churches I’ve attended, nothing ever rang true for me except the messages within my heart. I and dogma are poor mates. Jerry had chosen the only road I could not walk with him. He was very devout and so was I, but in two different directions. There was no way I could ever be a Christian minister’s wife.

Jerry started  a musical ministry and asked if I would write lyrics to 20 Christian-themed songs for him. I did and they came out beautiful… my words and his music.

We parted for the last time in the 80′s. Last I heard, he had married a woman from his church and had moved to another state to work in the ministry with his brother who was also a minister.

Each time I hear James Taylor or one of the musician’s from that era, my heart aches a little. I wonder if I could have been more tolerant… could have pretended that I was into a fundamentalist mindset, and stayed to love him. But I know me and I have to be true to what I believe. Still, I wonder if I made the right choice. The following is a poem I wrote for us. I hope you like it. I just needed a way to express myself, so poetry seemed like the safest way to deal with it all. So here goes…

In the Name of God

Beyond my window, I see a tapestry of blues and mauves,

And I wonder where you are.

In the distance lies a church, the symbol of our undoing.

You chose religion and I chose to interpret God my way.

There could be no compromise.

You chose the only path I could not follow.

So I said goodbye to the music man who used to write me songs.

I walked away from a 10-year love,

From tender kisses that ignited passion.

Without a backward glance, I left you.

Seated on my couch, your free-flowing hair, now shorn.

You’d adopted society’s biblical image of piety,

Discarded your tie-dye shirt for an uptight suit.

You found religion and we lost our future.

How Godly was that?

Did you really believe in a trite little man in the clouds?

One who doles out ill or favor, judges, punishes?

Or were you just so broken you needed fellowship,

A clan, so to speak, wherein you could hide?

Maybe I could have pretended God was small, separate and dull.

Maybe you could have kept your freedom, fire, and religion too.

Then again, maybe not.

We threw away a special love in the name of God.

Each time I think of you I wonder,

What kind of God would have ever wanted that?

She seemed to enjoy your conversation, and even said she had a great time. So, why is it that the woman you took out last week doesn’t want to see you again? Maybe, just maybe, you are a bad kisser.

I know. Every man thinks he’s a great kisser. But guys, believe me, it isn’t true. I know that men can say the same about a lot of women as well, but being a woman, I can only give you my side of the story and hope it helps you improve your game with the ladies. So here goes…

Oh, one thing that needs mentioning here before we get into kissing, and that is — know a little about your date’s sexual preferences and taboos before you go out on a date. Talk to your lady on the phone several times. Ask her questions about herself. If she is open, ask her if she has any particular preferences, taboos, fantasies or fetishes when it comes to intimacy. If she shares, great, but keep yours to yourself.

If you want to suck her big toe and she isn’t into foot fetishes, she probably won’t want a first date with you, and if you do manage to talk her into a date, she probably won’t see you again, no matter how well you kiss her lips… or could kiss her toes.

Same goes for your preference or desire to engage in golden showers, anal/oral acts, food/sex fetishes, having her wear those sexy red heels to bed or dressing up to role-play. And, of course, sado/masochistic activities and play that involves others, like swinging, threesomes, girl-on-girl, voyeurism. Talk to her and feel her out on these subjects, so you’ll know how sedate or adventurous she is.

I believe all is fine between consenting adults, but know what your lady is into before you tell her your wildest fantasies. Keep your desire for whips, chains, handcuffs and inviting another woman to join the two of you in various sex acts to yourself until you know that you and your new lady will continue to date and possibly be intimate. No full disclosures until you know her better. A woman is entitled to change her mind about what she will and won’t do… and even if she isn’t initially into having you suck her toes, she might be willing to give it a go, if your kiss really ignites her passions.

So… read carefully. I guarantee this article will improve your dating scores.

Critical Do’s and Don’ts

1.     Don’t pucker your lips a foot away from her lips and start your kiss in mid-air. Wait until you get to her lips, then pucker up. Seeing a kiss coming from a distance isn’t romantic. It just lets your date know that you don’t know what the heck you are doing.

2.     Control your oral juices! A moist or wet kiss can be nice, but when your drool starts running down her chin or out the sides of her mouth… she isn’t going to feel anything but grossed out. So, if you have a saliva problem, check with your doctor or close your mouth a bit more as you kiss. Don’t leave your date with the feeling that she just got slimed.

3.     Don’t grab her breasts or butt when you kiss her for the first time. That is, unless your lady takes your hands and places them on her body in these strategic or other places. Slow down. Have some patience. Most women don’t get turned on as quickly as men do, so go slow, be sensual and romantic, and give her a chance to get aroused by you. A man who is quick to grab seems desperate, which gives the impression that he is a poor lover and needs to cop as many feels as he can, as fast as he can, before the date ends… because he knows she won’t go out with him again – ever.

4.     Don’t choose a public place for your first kiss, unless you are sure she doesn’t mind public displays of affection. Some women love them and some don’t. If your date doesn’t, then she will be embarrassed and turned off. Probably not the response you were looking for.

5.     Make sure your breath is fresh. Drink some soda or water, or chew gum, eat a mint… just do something to get rid of the stale saliva taste that one can get when they have had nothing in their mouth for an hour. Also, if you smoke or you have just eaten a meal, then either go into the Men’s room and swish your mouth with some water to dislodge food particles from your teeth and tongue, or drink a beverage at your table and pop a breath mint. Few things are worse than kissing someone with food particles floating in their mouth and/or who tastes like stale tobacco or the cauliflower that was served with the prime rib. If nothing else, swill some liquid gently around your mouth at the table… even if it’s water, to refresh your palate before you lean in for that kiss.

6.     Go for her hand, cheek or lips, for a first kiss – not her breasts, thighs, ears, or neck. Save these more intimate areas for when you know her better and know she is into you and welcomes a more personal touch from you. And when, and if, you do eventually kiss her ears, wet the inside of her ear just a tad and then breathe softly into her ear. Don’t plant a wad of spit and then blow hard. One will send chills up her spine. The other will make her wish she was home alone watching television. Get my drift?

7.     Close your eyes when you kiss her. Don’t stare wide-eyed into her eyes during the kiss, and don’t be gawking at the waitress or the ballgame on the big sports bar TV. Pay attention or skip the kiss.

8.     Don’t shove your tongue thickly into her mouth and go for a deep kiss the first time. Remember, men’s tongues are larger than most women’s are and filling her mouth with your tongue to the point where she cannot breathe will just make her gag.

9.     If she is into some tongue on the first kiss, them soften your tongue and move it slowly and sensually. Don’t dart it into and out of her mouth like you are a frog trying to catch flies. That’s just not sexy.

10.  If you kiss her softly on the lips and don’t go in for a French kiss the fist time, but she gives you tongue, then give her some back… don’t just open your mouth like a cavern and sit there. Meet her tongue gently. Swirl yours around in her mouth and explore. Follow her lead.

11.   Don’t kiss her with food in your mouth, unless you know beforehand that she finds this sexy.

12.  Don’t kiss her and then grab her hand and attempt to move it to your groin area. It’s a first kiss. If she wants her hand there, believe me, she’ll make that move. Let things start slow and build.

13.  Don’t bite her lips or face. Unless you met her on a sado/masochistic dating site or have discussed the pain issue and know for certain that you are both turned on by a bit of the rough stuff, don’t hurt her.

14.  Blow your nose before you leave the house. I know this sounds silly, but I have heard many women complain that their date smelled like old, crusty mucus when he leaned close to kiss her. So, while you are showering, brushing your teeth, combing your hair, and applying that cologne… blow your nose clear of the day’s discharge. Also… wear deodorant and go easy on the cologne… less is more.

15.  If you’ve got a cold, or you have a cold sore or other lesion on your mouth, then forget kissing her. Catching a guy’s cold or having a guy wanting to kiss you with an open wound on his lips is a real turnoff. Wait until you are healthy before you try to spread your joy.

Now that I’ve told you how not to kiss a woman, I figure I need to give you some hints on the right way to kiss her. So, here you go…

Make it Sensual and You’ll Get that Second Date

Start slow. Kiss her with soft, closed lips. Really feel her lips. Are they soft or stiff? Is she leaning closer, inviting you to continue, or can you feel her pulling away? Pay attention to her body language. If she is pushing on your chest or turning her head away… back off. If she is pulling you closer and deepening her kiss, then go for it! Kiss her more firmly with your lips parted slightly.

Touch her face softly with your fingers or cup her face in your hands. Lightly caress the hair at the nape of her neck as you kiss her. Run your hands down her back slowly and sensually. Run your tongue over her lips and into the corners of her mouth. Suck gently on her top or bottom lip. If she responds by parting her lips or pulling you closer, then introduce your tongue. If she is into your kiss, you’ll feel her tongue meet yours as she begins exploring your lips and mouth.

If you are doing this right, you’ll feel or hear her heartbeat and breath quicken. She’ll lean into you, caress you, or pull you closer. When your date’s passion has been ignited, the kiss between you will just “feel” right… and I guarantee that you will at least get a second date — if not much, much more.

It has taken me 30 years to quit for the second time. I actually quit for one month when I was about 20 something. I did great despite the night sweats for the whole month… and the first 3 days; those were nightmarish. I actually kicked a friend off my porch when he stopped in to say hello (out of character for mild me). I was crazed. My hair wrapped in a towel… I had NO patience to stand in the mirror and concentrate long enough to comb it. Couldn’t work on the computer because words had become nonsense tics across the screen. And, of course, couldn’t smoke to take the edge off. That really ticked me off. Everything ticked me off. But I’m stubborn. I stuck with it.

To add insult to injury, someone suggested sucking on sugarless candy… so, I did – constantly! They forgot to mention that sorbitol (main ingredient) “may cause” (I use the terms loosely… every pun intended) flatulence, the two-step… bloating. It was ugly. Figured I felt bad because of the nicotine withdrawal, BUT the candy was causing the problems, and I didn’t realize it for far too long. I no longer eat sugarless ANYTHING.

I was “clean” for a month. Then I went to visit my aunt and “going-out” buddy. She kept saying “just have one,” and I finally did… and continued for the next 30 years. She, by the way, no longer smokes. Ironic, huh?

Here are the reasons I quit smoking and the ideas I had to overcome in order to quit (Remember, I was a rebel child of the 60s/70s):

1. To be healthier. Okay…. I KNOW it is healthier to be a nonsmoker. MOST nonsmokers can’t resist telling you how much better and healthier life will be without cigarettes… then you find out they smoke pot, do coke, drink daily (My philosophy is: who wants to live to be 95, outlive their friends and family, get stuck in a nursing home being ignored by candy stripers and nurses who should have given it up years earlier….? Ok, ok, this isn’t helping).

2. So other people will “approve” of me (This fact made me want to chain smoke forever. I hate feeling pressured by the judgmental “shoulds” of other people to do ANYTHING, including smoking. Yes, I am pro-choice… but also pro-life. Really. Just stay the hell out of my body and womb… take care of your own children, morals, body, thank you. And for goodness sake, keep your religion to yourself. My concept of God, gawd, god, creator, allah, Jehovah, etc. is a private and highly personal affair. Don’t want or need YOUR approval… don’t believe in a “hell,” and if you want to, it’s okay by me, but keep your hell to yourselves, thank you.) I say this with all kindness and respect for your beliefs and choices. Anyway, this is one of the reasons I kept smoking for so long… I didn’t want the approval of “the masses.” I wanted to snub my nose at their so-called values.

3. So, I’ll smell nice to nonsmokers (who flippin complain constantly about the “smell” of smoke. Why is that? Think Bar-B-Q’s, campfires, atom bombs, forest fires, the pleasing sulpher aroma of a match, incense, candles, other warm fuzzy things. When did the smell of smoke become “not nice?”)

4. So that my breath will be “fresh” (Now this is ironic to me… so “I won’t taste like the bottom of an ashtray,” as nonsmokers are fond of saying… BUT most nonsmokers will still taste like stale spittle or stomach acid to me… really, they do, unless they suck on mints or drink liquids frequently. That’s been my experience with my nonsmoker dates, and I prefer the ashtray/smoke taste – rather than stomach acid. I know, “gross,” and believe me, this is another big reason I kept smoking for so long.

5. So I will not go crazy craving a smoke after 2 hours have passed… in the theater, the nightclub, the restaurant… everywhere else nonsmokers socialize with smokers. Frankly, I’m tired of the cravings interfering in my life every 2 hours. I want self-control back with regard to my oral fixations. (Never said I wanted to get rid of those)

6. So I will be ridding myself of an expensive, nasty habit. OK, I agree! Expensive, hell yes! The government has to get its cut AND nonsmokers have to feel they can penalize smokers for continuing to expose them to secondhand smoke’s — nasty habit. Right! By the way, to avoid other known “nasty” toxins more deadly than secondhand smoke, try to not breathe the air or car exhaust, or drink the water, use pesticides, eat too many fruits and veggies without washing them in bleach, eat white bread, take too much Tylenol, ingest snack food preservatives, kiss strangers….

Just one more control issue, I hate — right up there with seat belts. Strap the kids in for sure, but let adults make their own choices. If I know the risks and I want to ride without a helmet, seat belt, condom, whatever, then shut the hell up and mind your own business. It is not your responsibility to force me to be responsible for myself – smarten up, etc., I’m entitled to my own choices, stupidities, idiosyncrasies, etc. It’s MY life.

Do buckle yourself in, rubber up, wear the helmet… and enjoy the nursing home when you are 95 (Just don’t take those prescription drugs, they will kill you!). Doctor-prescribed drugs are one of the top 3 things that cause deaths each year. It’s true. And smoking isn’t as “nasty” as abusing or neglecting your kids or pets, being rude to your neighbors, not flushing, cheating, lying, spitting on the sidewalk or out the car window, picking your nose or breaking wind in public, particularly the grocery store (or over dinner)…. I could go on and on, and most people could cop to at least two a piece. Enough said. So, yeah, I’ll save a little money. Big deal.

Truth be told, it was hard to want to quit smoking because I had to overcome my rebellious nature. If being a nonsmoker wasn’t so popular, I would have stopped years ago. I truly resented that “nonsmoking others” were so set on trying to force smokers to quit by blaming, shaming, financially penalizing, excluding them from social environments…. in other words, making them socially unacceptable — judging them because of a personal habit. Reminds me too much of fundamentalist dogma and religions with hypocritical bigots that tout exclusivity (I’m so special and you’re not unless you think like me).

Most people engage in bad habits. Some eat too many potato chips, ice cream, or too much fast-food (and it shows). Some are just habitually mean natured and selfish. Some are habitual control freaks. Some are habitual slobs… their homes and cars are nasty. Some have a habit of pedaphilia. Some habitually lie, cheat, and steal. Some are habitual users of nose sprays, sleep aids, alcohol, coke, pot, pills, etc. Some good “god-fearing” people have habitual cravings that include sexual practices outside the “norm”… auto-eroticism, 3-ways, swinging, same-sex, dominatrix and S&M role play, foot-fetishs, waste product fetishes, food-play fetishes, beastiality, etc. They go to church on Sunday… and then whip their neighbor’s ass with a riding crop on Monday night… in the back seat of a car, parked down at the elementary schoolyard. Some are habitually prejudice against other races… thinking their “race” is superior to others.

Anyway, while I’m not judging the habits of others, smoking seemed the least of the “habitual evils” in my mind. I’d rather smoke cigarettes than habitually cheat on my spouse, lie, act like a slob, have to be spanked, spiked, wear diapers, or have my toes licked to get off. You get the picture. This hung me up and kept me smoking. Besides… I really like to smoke.

Now, I’ve finally overcome myself… my own prejudices and stubbornness, enough to get off cigarettes. I actually have not quit smoking — I’ve just quit buying cigarettes, and I don’t smoke anyone else’s. So, somehow I can get past all my reasons for not bowing to convention by ceasing to smoke, and actually do something I’ve been needing to do for myself. Why did I stop buying cigs? One primary reason: I decided I no longer wanted something outside of me to control my choices… and the addictive toxins in cigarettes were controlling my choices. So, I did it for ME… not for society’s approval, or to live longer, or to smell better, taste better, slow the aging, avoid offending someone at an event, etc. Simply because I decided it no longer fit into my lifestyle and it was time to take responsibility and change my habits and life. What a concept.

Besides… life’s motivations are rarely black & white, and rumor has it that being a nonsmoker doubles your chance of meeting quality dates (this has yet to be proved… and I’m sceptical. Still, if I meet a great guy and decide to hang out with him for a while or a lifetime, it would be nice to have health and stamina to better frolic with him).

I’ve always thought I came into this life for the food and sex…. I think I quit to improve my romantic options. Ha!

Anxieties and fears get embedded not only in your psyche, but also in your body. Your muscles remain tense even when you think you are relaxed, because stress has become ‘normal.’ Your mind becomes hypervigilant, always on-guard, and even when you think you are expecting the best, you are preparing for the worst.

It isn’t that people like me want to hold on to the past. It’s that the past has seeped itself into our very beings. My normal reactions are not that normal to many others – like when faced with threat/harm, I go numb and freeze, rather than fight or run –but it is what my body and mind do instinctively out of training and habit.

When I look over my life, I think that rather than to seek adventure and risk, I have lived very small, because safety – not getting hurt — mattered more than joy. I’m not trying to whine… just explaining things as I see them.

Anyway, here I am in the last phase of my life, just now realizing that I have a habit pattern of dread and hiding. And that all the counseling, self-help readings, educational settings, work experiences, and life experiences I’ve had so far have been stifled, kept small by my fears. So, I’ve decided to get social… find meet-ups, make friends, take classes… just get out and learn how to have ‘fun’. And blog… which is risky feeling to me.

‘Fun’…now that’s a word I have nearly forgotten.  ’Fun,’ to me, is very simple. It usually means meeting a friend for lunch or coffee. Joining in a metaphysical or philosophical conversation, which would be really dull to some, or watching a good pay-per-view alone. Fun to me has been feeling free and safe… pretty dull in the larger view.

So this is my very first blog…. ever, anywhere. I’m a newbie, so please be kind if you comment. I’m just like most of the rest of the world… groping and stumbling my way towards a greater understanding of life and my self, and trying to avoid intentionally harming anyone or anything else. I do swat flies, but I don’t kill ants… okay, so I’m not perfect in my harmlessness. Are you?

What is life about? What am I about? Maybe the answers are: Life just is, and I just am. What I am and what my life will be from here on out appears to be whatever I decide them to be. I just wish I made better decisions sometimes. Know what I mean? Isn’t hindsight great? Don’t you just feel like crawling into a hole sometimes… usually after doing something to really humiliate yourself? I do. Oh no! There I go… being pessimistic again.

I’m working on it… because while I think I’m pretty pessimistic, my heart truly overflows with so much love for everything. Duality… fear and love.

A tough nut to crack.